


Werewolves of Central

by Rinzler



Category: The Flash (TV 2014), The Flash - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, because spoilers, characters will be added as they become relevant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-18
Updated: 2016-08-18
Packaged: 2018-08-09 12:20:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7801678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rinzler/pseuds/Rinzler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Len has planned his future as the alpha of one of Central's most powerful packs. Barry is an omega running from his traumatic past, determined not to return. One day, they meet in the present.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Walking Through the Streets In the Rain

“You can’t do this forever,” comes Mick’s voice from behind him. It breaks through the silence of the early morning, cutting like a sword, vicious and honest.

Len pauses at the edge of the clearing, caught off guard, and turns to look at his second-in-command. “I don’t catch your meaning,” he says cooly.

They both know he’s lying.

Mick snorts and stands up from where he was leaning against a pine tree. “You might be the Alpha of the largest pack in Central and in your prime, but you’re unmated, buddy. There’s only so long you can put it off.”

“I just haven’t found-” Len begins.

“The right wolf yet?” Mick interrupts him. “Spoiler, Snart- finding the right one is near impossible. Sometimes all you can do is find one who’s good enough and go from there.”

Len doesn’t respond, just shrugs and avoids looking at Mick, choosing to stare off into the forest instead.

It’s silent for a moment. Then Mick sighs and steps forward, clapping Len on the shoulder. “Just…do yourself a favor and actually start looking, okay? Having a mate isn’t the end of the world. Sometimes it’s pretty damn alright.”

“I do not need details about-” Len hisses.

“My sex life? Good, you ain’t gettin’ ‘em. I’m just saying that this sneaking outta meetings and misdirecting and pissing Lisa off so she doesn’t harp on you about choosing a mate is getting old. Getting up before the crack of dawn to run unnecessary patrols ain’t smart either.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Len says shortly.

Mick rolls his eyes and huffs in disbelief, taking his hand off Len’s shoulder to gesture at the forest behind them. Len takes the cue and drops down to all fours, feeling his bones grind and clack together as he shifts. As soon as the last tendon snaps into place, he’s of like a shot, plunging recklessly through the woods.

Mick watches him go, wondering how much longer Len is going to keep running from the inevitable.

 


	2. He Was Looking for A Place

Len runs for what feels like hours before stopping at the outskirts of his territory, flanks heaving and tongue lolling as he paces. Leaves crinkle and crunch underfoot, kicked up by his restless motion.

Len knows that every time he does this, he’s running away with his tail between his legs like a coward. All the other Alphas in Central that are heads of packs have mates, even if half of them were arranged power-matches rather than love-matches. Len is an oddity, the loner, and the fact that he’s the Alpha of the largest and most powerful pack in Central doesn’t change that. He knows people talk and wolves howl about how he chooses to stay alone, how he won’t meet to discuss an arranged power-match and turns down anyone who approaches him seeking a love-match.

He just doesn’t understand why none of them choose to see his side. A mate is one more wolf to worry about protecting, another possible weakness that enemies would take advantage of. Len is busy running around managing Central’s largest pack, he doesn’t have time to take care of a mate and raise a family on top of that. Besides, Lisa, Mick, and the Rogues are the only family he needs.

He’s torn from his thoughts when the breeze picks up and a familiar scent wafts through the line of trees, coppery and bitter. Len tenses up.

Blood.

He sniffs the air and shakes his head in confusion. Usually blood has a fairly basic smell, easily identifiable. Not this blood, however. This blood has layers of scents. It smells like old blood, spilled moons ago from wounds that were never cared for. Yet it also smells like  new blood, freshly spilled, from even more injuries.

Most interestingly enough, it’s blood that Len has never smelled before. It’s definitely from a wolf, but no wolf from his pack, or the Santini’s, or even the Dunkirk’s. He sniffs the air again, and perks up in surprise when he realizes that the unknown wolf is an omega. The scent-marker hangs heavy in the air, warmth drowned out by the stink of fear, but it’s still there.

Len’s hackles rise. Whoever this wolf is, they’re in bad shape.

The underbrush to his left rustles. Len spins around, sinking into a defensive crouch and baring his teeth.

A moment later, something stumbles out.

For a long moment both wolves hold still, slowly assessing each other. As time passes, though, Len relaxes and finds himself staring curiously at the other wolf. They have red fur, an incredibly rare color. On top of that, they’re an omega. By themselves those traits mean they shouldn’t be stumbling around a wild forest at the break of dawn. Taken together, they paint a worrisome picture.

Then Len notices the wounds. Red fur is matted down by blood in large patches across the omega’s body, making their fur look like it’s a dark-brown red. There are chunks of fur missing, too, especially on the wolf’s legs, like something was chasing them but never quite caught up.

Len feels a sudden surge of protectiveness and stalks closer, nosing at the wounds. Several of them look infected, one to the point it’s a wonder the leg is still holding up. The fur that isn’t spattered with blood is heavily matted, twigs and leaves poking out from the tangles. The omega simply stands still and silently submits to Len’s inspection. They’re clearly exhausted and terrified, their legs trembling and breath still coming in heavy pants.

Len aches with sympathy as he lays his muzzle across the other wolf’s and rumbles deep in his throat. _It’s okay. Don’t be afraid. I’ll protect you._

 _Protect me?_ Comes the scared, tentative reply.

 _Yes,_ Len confirms, ignoring the rational part of his mind fighting against such a ridiculous promise. _Now and forever._

A moment later, he leaps back with a howl of surprise as the wolf collapses. Their legs crumple and fold, and they pitch sideways, landing in the mossy underbrush with a heavy thud.

Then the transformation from wolf to human begins. Blood-stained red fur recedes into blood-stained skin that stretches over re-forming bones. Some of the leaves and twigs slough off, no longer having any fur to get tangled in, but there are still chunks of bark embedded deep in a few places. The transformation is always grotesque to witness, but Len doesn’t take his eyes off the omega.

It’s a good thing he doesn’t, because about halfway through he starts to notice something strange about them.

Most omegas are curvy and short, built to bear strong children. This omega is skinny and tall, all lithe, compact muscle over a runner’s frame. Curled onto their side, it’s easy to tell that their hipbones aren’t pronounced, barely even curving out at all. Their shoulders are broad, and their hair is a short reddish-brown, and they….

….They are a guy. A man.

A male omega.

Len nearly collapses himself from shock. Male omegas are god-who-even-knows-how rare, the kind of unique anomaly that happens in a wolf pack once in a hundred moons. There’s no record of one ever being born in Central.

Yet here one is, sprawled at Len’s feet, scared and tired and obviously running away. Len doesn’t know from what, but he does know that he will protect this omega with his life. However long it takes, he’ll make sure that they’re safe.

It’s the work of a moment to shift back to human form, and another to lift the other man into his arms- despite the fact that he must be six feet tall at least, he weighs next to nothing. Len suppresses a growl and hugs the other man closer as he sets off in the direction of his pack’s clearing. It’s an easy walk from there to the communal lodge, and with any luck, Shawna’s on duty tonight. This kid is going to need a medic.

Behind him, the sun rises.


End file.
